


Some Mistakes Get Made

by honestlyidkwhatimdoing



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Case Fic, Episode: s03e16 Elephant's Memory, Romance, Season/Series 03, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25557337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestlyidkwhatimdoing/pseuds/honestlyidkwhatimdoing
Summary: Hotch fired Reid after confronting Owen Savage in Texas. Reid's replacement causes him to wonder if he's made a mistake.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/William LaMontagne Jr., Lila Archer/Spencer Reid
Comments: 42
Kudos: 198





	1. a home, a lifestlye, a family

**Author's Note:**

> yes, the titles from 'Moral of the Story' by Ashe. no, i cannot write titles or summaries

They were on the jet, the rest of the team were trying to catch some sleep before they arrived in Virginia. The BAU's youngest agent sat opposite of him, and waited for him to speak.

"You knowingly jeopardized your life and the lives of others," He received a small nod in response, and Hotch took a deep breath before he continued. "What you did was reckless, and for someone with your intelligence, stupid. This can’t keep happening Reid."

"It won't," Reid said.

"No it won't. I'm sorry Reid, but this isn't the first time you've acted against protocol. I've given you as many chances as I could, but I can't play favorites, I need your badge and gun by tomorrow morning."

He was hardly ever surprised, but Reid's calm reaction dismayed him. The other seemed to accept his decision, and promised to leave his credentials in Hotch's office.

He wouldn’t admit it, but it pained him to release the young genius who Gideon had put so much faith into. He’d seen the man as apart of his family, the BAU was his second home, even though it had cost him his wife. In some strange way, Reid's departure felt like sending Jack off to college.

When the plane finally landed and he made a slow tread to his office, he couldn’t extinguish the feeling settling in his gut. _It's for the best_ he assured himself, however, another part of him was torn, repeating the same question over and over.

_Was it really?_

The next morning he grabbed a cup of coffee and headed up to his office, he was settling into his chair by the time he noticed it. A small encased photo of Spencer Reid, twenty-two year old Reid had the same face as twenty-six year old Reid, but Hotch knew the man had aged years through his job. Reid's gun sat on top, and he recognized it as the same weapon that took out Philip Dowd two years ago.

He knew Reid hadn't told the others, and he wasn't sure how they would handle the news, JJ and Garcia would be devastated, Reid was like the little brother they never had. Dave, and even Prentiss, hadn't known the genius long, but he knew there would still be upset from them. Morgan. _Morgan._ The man would be livid at the dismissal of his best friend.

As if on cue, he heard noises near the coffee machine, _it would be Reid there_ he thought bitterly, instead, Morgan was fetching Prentiss and him two mugs. He tore his gaze from them, choosing to finish his paperwork instead, he wanted the whole team present before he made the announcement.

His folders sat in a neat pile on his desk by the time everyone had arrived, and he headed down the steps, knowing they would be expecting his presence soon. He had called Erin and informed her of his decision, and they had a meeting planned that morning to discuss his replacement.

"Oh real funny Prentiss- Hey Hotch, you haven’t seen Reid have you?" Morgan's grin fell once he saw the somber look on his face.

Garcia and JJ were grabbing their own caffeine fills for the day, and Rossi had come down the stairs, Hotch guessed, to try and socialize with his new team. He made sure everyone was within hearing distance, and the other teams couldn’t hone in without being accused of eavesdropping.

"Reid’s approach with Owen Savage, an armed unsub, led me to believe he would be better off without the BAU. Chief Strauss and I are looking for a suitable recruit." As he expected, protests and pleas erupted from the group.

"This is ridiculous Hotch, he _disarmed_ the unsub. One stupid mistake doesn’t mean you should fire him. He just took it a little too personal, he empathized with him, that’s what we're supposed to do anyways." Morgan seethed.

"Hotch, please reconsider this. Reid’s been through a lot, okay? Suspend him, order a psych eval, but please don’t do this. This job is his life."

He considered JJ's last statement, but kept his foot planted firmly in his decision. _He's got his mom_ he reasoned, as he walked to Strauss' office _and he could find Gideon._

"I never thought you'd let him go, I'll accept your brief explanation from last night. Now this doesn’t happen often, but there’s a man I believe would suit your team best. He'll be able to deliver the same knowledge Dr. Reid could, and he's had some experience in the field."

He looked over the file she handed him, Dr. Michael Charleston held doctorates in psychology and mathematics, and bachelor’s associates in criminal justice and forensics. He was older than Reid, around Morgan's age, with close-cropped dark hair and a severe expression on his face. 

Hotch had to admit Charleston’s background was impressive, and it appeared he was also fairly competent with a gun. He set the folder down, "I believe he'll be a good addition to the team."

"Wonderful, you'll meet him tomorrow morning, and then perform introductions with the rest of your unit."

He nodded, thanked her for her time, and headed back to his own office. He opened his door to find his eldest colleague peering through the small collection of books on his shelf.

He leaned against his desk, "What do you need Dave?"

The Italian kept his gaze on a piece of literature near the end of the row. "Why’d you do it Aaron?"

"I told you Dave, he broke regulations, and it wasn't the first time. I couldn’t just let it persist, not if it puts my team and innocent bystanders in danger."

The other scoffed, "We've all bent the rules, a lot more than him. There’s another reason, what is it?"

He closed his blinds and checked that the door was closed. "Reid had a problem with narcotics. He struggled for a while, but I let it slide because I didn’t want to terminate him. He's been clean for about a year now, but I can’t risk him relapsing, and his rising temper was worrisome."

"You think firing him will help? Look I’ll admit, the kid can a pestering little shit, but he’s good at his job. I think you should’ve thought this through."

"I have," he said flatly.

Rossi finally parted from the bookshelf, moving towards the door. He turned his head in Hotch's direction. "I shouldn’t tell you this. But I can’t wait to see all hell break loose when Jason finds out." And then he was alone again, opening his blinds and staring at the younger agents crowded around Derek Morgan’s desk.

It was Saturday, so he decided to ring Jack, he smiled as the boy rambled on about his nice teacher, and how much cooler soccer was than little league. He said his goodbyes with a promise to visit if Haley permitted it. He opened his door and figured he'd rather discuss his choice now than later.

Morgan regarded him with a cool demeanor when he asked if they could meet at the round table, while the rest of the team tried to conceal their feelings, he knew they were malcontented. 

"I know this seems sudden, and you all believe what I’ve done is unfair. I understand. West Bune wasn’t the only reason I fired him, it just happened to be the final straw. You’re all aware of Tobias Hankel's lasting presence, and I never brought it up with Reid.

"He’s broken important bureaucracy rules that I haven’t mentioned to Strauss because I don’t want anything staining his record. He’s always said guest lecturing interested him, he should have a job that doesn’t tax him out."

Morgan didn’t address him when he started speaking. 

"You are not using Hankel as an excuse, Reid's…problem shouldn’t be held against him. He’s been clean for months, he picked himself up and went through withdrawls _by himself._ I don’t want to hear you give yourself a pat on the back for keeping Strauss in the dark. You didn’t want anything on his record? Fine, Garcia could wipe it clean you-"

Rossi interrupted him, and Hotch suspected he was trying to keep Morgan from joining Reid in early retirement. 

He turned to the angry profiler, "I understand Reid went through many shortcomings, and I’m not applauding myself for anything." He faced the whole team, "You’ll be meeting Dr. Michael Charleston tomorrow morning. I need all of you to be professional, or you’ll face a two-week suspension for misdemeanor."

The implied message towards Morgan hung in the air, the man immediately rising from his seat and heading back to his desk with Garcia trailing behind him. Rossi's expression profiled like he wanted to have another exchange, but instead, made off with the excuse of a half-written book waiting for him. JJ and Emily were last to leave, talking in hushed tones.

Hotch took a deep breath and headed home. It was rare that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, but the case and Reid’s departure had taken their toll.

He only hoped the team could adjust to their newest member, and perhaps they would forgive him for releasing Reid from the unit.


	2. wistfully thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just had an epiphany(am i using that right? maybe?)that jack hotchner is probably too young to play sports or talk on the phone, so lets all pretend hes 3-4.
> 
> also i fixed all(most?)of the typos in the first chapter. it was very atrocious so thank you all for reading through it

He was back in Strauss' office, standing next to her desk, but there was a new addition to the room. 

Michael Charleston was facing him, introducing himself with a formal look atop his face. It was an interesting juxtaposition to his meeting with Reid, who's exuberant demeanor had left him raising an eyebrow at Gideon.

"Agent Hotchner, Chief Strauss has informed me of nothing but you're impressive feats, it's an honor to be put with your team."

He nodded, "It's good to finally be acquainted with you Dr. Charleston," he turned to Strauss. "If there's nothing else ma'am, I'd like him to meet the rest of my team."

With her approval, they left and walked down to the bull pen. His team were at their desks, but palpable confusion passed through them when they noticed the man by his side. Before he could speak, JJ walked through with a Manila folder tucked under her arm. 

Hotch followed her, with the rest of the team behind them, voicing their ideas on who the man was. It wasn't startling that they seemed to have reached the same consensus, and the irate body language told him they were correct.

He sat down, and the tension only rose when Charleston chose the seat where Reid usually resided. 

"This is agent Dr. Michael Charleston, he's-"

"Sitting in Reid's spot," Morgan said vehemently. 

He was thankful for Rossi, who leaned over and chastised the angered profiler. He didn't need to explain to Strauss why her freshly-minted agent was beaten to a pulp by an ex-jock.

The others hid their hostility well, although he noticed Garcia's usual sanguine disposition was replaced by a reserved attitude. The rest of the team nodded in acknowledgement, offering their own titles. 

JJ cleared her throat, "In the past three days, three people have been found with their throats slit in South Carolina," The screen displayed three women with black hair and brown eyes. "There's something else that connects them, you'll see their ring fingers have been...severed."

Prentiss looked at her folder, "The removal of the finger could mean the victims represent a spouse."

He agreed, "Alright, we'll debrief more on the plane, wheels up in thirty. Do you have a go-bag Charleston?"

"We won't be there long."

There was a bristle of discomfort around the room at the man's strange response.

"We never know how long these cases may take, we could have you accompany us on the next case."

The new recruit persisted, "Chief Strauss said it was pertinent you evaluate me on this case, I have a bag ready."

Hotch nodded and left to ride to the jet. Once everyone was boarded, he called Garcia and asked her to search through the women's backgrounds.

"Already done sir. All three were married, which supports your theory Emily. They all lived in the state's capital, but they shopped, resided, and prayed in different areas. There's a couple overlaps with vacation spots, and financial records show their spending sprees barely made a dent in their accounts."

"Thanks baby girl." Morgan called, and Garcia gave her own endearments before the screen went black.

Though it didn't bother Hotch anymore, Charleston looked unamused. "Didn't know federal agents were allowed to be so unprofessional."

Hotch noticed the vein on Morgan's temple was much more prominent as he stared at the agent. Thankfully, he seemed to suppress any nasty words that were about to spill.

Charleston, for his part, must have realized he'd pushed a button. He turned his head in Hotch's direction. "I thought the BAU didn't have cases on weekends."

"You thought wrong," Morgan breathed from his seat, Hotch shot him a look and the other glared in return, but remained silent. 

"Usually we don't, but when an unsub is killing this rapidly, we'll come in."

The doctor nodded and returned to studying the case file that Garcia had printed for him before they left. They bounced ideas off each other, and Hotch assigned them their different locations. 

"Charleston, you're coming with me to see the victims. JJ, Prentiss, you're at the station, start up a geographical profile," The blonde lifted her head, most likely, to mention geographical profiling usually fell on a _past_ member's shoulders. "Call Garcia, she can use a program. Morgan, Rossi, go visit the last two crime scenes."

"I could help with that geographical profile," Charleston pitched. 

He considered it, "Alright, you go with JJ to the station, Prentiss, you're meeting the medical examiner with me."

The group was satisfied with their roles, though Hotch saw JJ's eye twitch in Charleston's direction. 

They landed and Hotch and Prentiss drove to the examiner's office. They sat in silence for a while before she began speaking. 

"It sure didn't take you long to replace him."

He sighed, and thought carefully over his next words. Prentiss was driving, and he wasn't going to die because he'd said the wrong thing and caused her to swerve into a tree. "The FBI has a tendency to fill in vacated spots."

"Reid didn't leave by choice."

"He didn't seem all too upset," he refuted. 

And now Prentiss slammed on the brakes, and Hotch realized he didn't mull over his word choice enough.

"If you did it on the jet, where we were sleeping at the time, of course he wouldn't. I apologize if I come off as disrespectful, but it's common sense that he wouldn't make an ordeal out of it."

He understood. But he didn't say anything, so Prentiss huffed and continued driving. She didn't try and venture back to their discussion, and he was grateful for that as he went down the steps to meet the M.E.

The victims laid against the tables with a thin sheet covering them, and he stood between two of the tables while he awaited the examiner's verdict. 

"They were hit on the occipital bone ante mortem."

"Blitz attack," Prentiss mused.

"There is something a little unusual, if you look here," she gestured over the neck wounds. "They made small cuts in the median thyrohyoid ligaments, parts of the larynx."

He thought for a moment, "Slitting the throat would be enough to kill, damaging the voice box could symbolize taking away their ability to speak."

Prentiss nodded in agreement, after he thanked the M.E., they headed to the station. He wasn't disconcerted when the ride back was filled with complete silence, and chose to look over the evidence again. 

The sheriff introduced himself as Earl Davies and led them over to the room that was set up. Charleston was pouring over the map, placing pins and attaching strings. JJ was sat next to the phone, whispering to Garcia.

Charleston turned around when Hotch entered. "Agent, I've got your geographical profile narrowed down, and going off of the map, the unsub resides in or frequents this section of Columbia."

He studied the sheet that hung from the whiteboard, "Alright. Garcia? I need you to find anyone in Columbia who recently lost their wife through divorce, go back at least a couple months."

"I will send the list to your handheld's, adieu my loves."

Charleston didn't mention anything about her farewell, so it seemed his clash with Morgan had made him conscient of his words. The aforementioned man entered the precinct with Rossi.

"Both the victims were killed in secluded areas at night, he's smart enough to ensure there's no witnesses." Rossi informed them.

Prentiss shared what they had learned at the M.E.'s office, and the team built up a solid preliminary profile before presenting it to the police.

"The man we're looking for is in his mid thirties to forties, the amount of time between his kills means he is most likely unemployed. He lives alone, he _was_ married, but has since split with his partner."

Morgan picked up the next part, "He blitzes his victims from behind, showing a lack of confidence and an injury that affects his ability to overpower them on his own. Using a knife means he's not afraid to get up close with his victims, he has nothing left to lose and will try and perform suicide-by-cop if cornered."

"The presence of the FBI will force him to locate the source of his anger, so he'll stay close to home. We will set up a press conference warning the woman who live in or near the area marked as the unsub's place of residence." Emily added.

"We encourage you to increase police presence in this area," Hotch glanced at map behind him while the cops scanned over it. "That is all, thank you."

Hotch went over JJ's talking-points with her before he sent her out the sea of reporters. When she returned, they threw a few more possibilities and factors around until Hotch called it a night.

He half-expected Morgan or Rossi to knock on his door, but it remained quiet the rest of the night. A call from Davies came in the morning, and alerted him that a fourth victim had been found.

"It just pisses me off, we up security and he still manages to get beneath our noses." The deputy complained as they walked back into the precinct.

Hotch nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. Once he returned to the small room, he looked at the map on the wall and confirmed that the recent crime scene was within the triangulated section. 

"He's getting closer to his true target, we need to hurry."

As if on cue, the phone rang, signaling that Garcia had information. 

"So I've compiled a list of divorcé's and I've got twenty-seven names."

"Alright, how many of them have a physical impairment?" he asked.

"Two."

"Garcia, are either of them unemployed?" Rossi called.

"One, name's Beck Meyers. Married to a Charlotte Louis in '06, went through a heavy divorce that closed a week ago. Sending a picture now and...oh."

 _Oh_ he agreed, looking at the photo on the screen. Charlotte matched their victimology to a tee, he asked Garcia for her address, and to pitch a call to her landline. When she didn't answer, he immediately warned the deputy and ordered Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss to follow him.

Charleston stopped him just as he was about to leave. "Why am I not going with you?"

Although he didn't want to send an inexperienced agent into the field with a suicidal unsub, he also didn't have time to argue. "You'll ride with me."

He regretted his decision once Charleston decided he should be following speed limits.

"Sir, I believe that sign said forty miles per hour."

He didn't turn his head as his hands gripped the wheel. "There's a woman who is probably being held hostage by an unstable serial killer, I truly do not care about what laws I might be breaking."

Thankfully, the doctor closed his mouth as Hotch peeled into Charlotte's driveway. He hopped out, and directed the officers to hold their weapons while he checked her house. As they presumed, Charlotte sat on her couch, Meyers was sitting next to her holding a knife to her throat. 

He entered into the living room with Morgan falling behind him, placing his hands in a sign of peace, he addressed the man.

"Mr. Meyers, my name is agent Hotchner, I need you to let her go."

He noticed Meyers' grip tightened on the blade, and he stood in silence as he waited for the man to respond. He sent Hotch a glare and scanned his eyes between Morgan and him.

"You don't know what it was like. I couldn't do anything right, there was always something new that I'd messed up," he sent a look to the frightened woman. "I was _always_ there for you. But when I had my accident? Lost most of the mobility in my arm? You didn't care. No, instead you filed for divorce, why? After I was so good to you?"

Charlotte had tears watering in her eyes as she choked out her words. "Beck, please don't do this."

Meyers wasn't listening, and he saw Morgan level his gun out of the corner of his eye. "Mr. Meyers, I'm asking you to let her go."

The man's hand started to move, and blood was starting to trickle from Charlotte's neck. A loud noise rang out, and Hotch immediately ran over to catch the sharp object. Beck Meyers laid against the couch, with a hole in the middle of his head. He glanced back to see Morgan holster his gun as he went to lead Charlotte out to the waiting ambulance. He followed them out, letting the coroners remove Meyers' body.

Rossi walked over to him, "You know he had to do it. Charlotte Louis would be dead right now if he hadn't."

He watched said woman being wheeled into the ambulance. "I know that Dave. I'm not going to fire anyone on the team, if that's what you're so worried about."

"I'd believe you a week ago Aaron, but now? Now I'm not so sure." He made off before Hotch could reply.

The plane ride home was met in silence, some members were getting some rest, some were reading, or grabbing coffee. Hotch let his mind run as he looked back to what he'd thought climbing into bed a couple days ago. He'd hoped the team might forgive him for letting Reid go.

But this case proved he was just wistfully thinking. 


	3. risk taker

It had only been a couple days, but Reid still replayed his conversation with Hotch. He didn't necessarily need to, though his eidetic memory correlated with things he saw, his echoic memory was almost as perfect. Nevertheless, he still thought back to that night. 

He understood he had been acting out of line, he understood he had pushed Hotch's buttons more than once, and he definitely understood trying to talk down an armed unsub, while he carried no protection, was a terrible idea. But it hadn't mattered to him, he wasn't going to let another kid die in front of him.

When he went home that night, he simply changed into comfier clothes, and climbed into bed. He had considered the possibility, that he'd be released from his job. He figured he'd cry, call his mom, experience the five stages of grief. But as he laid in his bed, there was no denial settling in, no part of him that wanted to run to Hotch's house and beg to be reinstated. 

Returning to the FBI building in Quantico had been hard. Reid had walked through, holster and gun in one hand, badge in the other. He had been relieved when he'd reached Hotch's office, and found it unoccupied. He could handle an interaction if he had to, but when he walked out of the place he'd considered his second home, Reid was glad he didn't have to face anyone.

He wanted to make a few calls in the succeeding days, although his mom wasn't on his list, he'd tell her in person. Instead, he'd phone Ethan, he hadn't talked to him since their case in New Orleans. He didn't know if he should try and track down Gideon, or give him a simple call. Strangely enough, a part of him wanted to dial Lila, the model from a couple years back. 

He'd been finishing his third degree when a scout for a local modeling agency had slipped him her card. He'd sent her a small smile before declining, _in another life_ he had thought as he walked out of the coffee shop. Posing in front of strangers seemed like a nightmare to him then, but he'd faced dangers worse than a guy with a camera. 

Reid even thought about lecturing like Gideon, but he nullified that idea. He enjoyed sharing information with others, but while it sounded crazy, he wanted a profession that gave him the same rush he experienced in the BAU. He didn't think teaching would give him the same feeling facing a killer had. Modeling, from what he knew, could be very exciting. 

_I'll dwell on it tomorrow_ he thought, turning on his side. He entertained the idea of contacting his team, _old team_ he chastised. Just like the professor idea, he vetoed the notion. Reid knew that as hard as he tried, he would eventually fall out of touch with them, it was common sense. If he no longer saw them everyday, they wouldn't remain as close as they were.

He finally let sleep claim him, and when he woke up, his alarm clock told him it was a quarter-past-ten. Usually, he was up at seven, putting a filter in his coffee machine. Considering recent events, maybe he deserved to sleep in a little. He poured his morning caffeine into his mug, and settled on his couch to read. 

Reid liked the serenity of it all, his morning's were usually rushed, messenger bag flopping at his side as he ran through his door. But now he could finally play some classical music on his television, and curl up in his living room. He got up after book number three, and rinsed out his cup before he placed it into his dishwasher.

Reid eyed his phone, before he picked it up and dialed Ethan's number. It rang out twice until a crackle told him someone was on the other line.

He spoke first, "Ethan?"

Reid could hear the astonished tone in his friend's voice. "Reid? What's up man?"

He chuckled, "Well, uh, I thought I'd tell you I'm done. With the FBI."

"No way. You love that job."

"I did, but I was stupid, and stupid people do stupid things. So now I'm unemployed I suppose."

Ethan breathed into the receiver. "Shit, I'm sorry Reid. Your boss was probably a dick anyways."

He shook his head, even though the other couldn't see it. "Hotch isn't a bad guy. He knew, like you said, about my...problem. He still didn't fire me."

He heard a disappointed sigh. "That's the thing that always bothered me about you. You're too nice, too forgiving. But maybe I'm just an asshole."

"Maybe."

"Very funny. Well if you ever want to come down to New Orleans, my apartment has an air mattress."

He laughed and told Ethan he might take him up on his offer. They talked about how Ethan was doing as a jazz player, and what Reid would do with his life now. He mentioned his interest in modeling, which Ethan was only mildly surprised by. 

"Well you've got the whole willowy, youthful look. I just never thought you'd put yourself in that crowd, y'know you're germ phobia probably won't mix well. Because, well you're the genius, I'm sure you know."

He did know what Ethan was suggesting, multiple people fixing his hair, dressing him into his next outfit, it seemed out of Reid's comfort zone. And he admitted that it _was_ out of his comfort zone, but he wanted to take risks.

"Well I think that's great man. I'd totally come watch you do your thing once you hit the runway."

Reid rolled his eyes, again, despite the fact Ethan couldn't see. "I don't think it'll go that far."

"'Course it will. You'll make front cover of all those glimmery overpriced magazines, and then I'll flick on my TV to see Spencer Reid strutting down the runway."

He didn't bother arguing, opting to bid Ethan goodbye and finish his reading. He stared at his landline again, wondering if he should call Lila. She probably didn't even remember who he was, but Reid didn't blame her, Lila's life was probably just as chaotic as his.

He ran a quick search on Lila to discover she was doing just as well as she was a few years ago, her stalker dilemma had gained her mass sympathy from the public. He decided he would call her. Not to rekindle whatever they had years ago, or try to get a leg up in the industry if he went into modeling. Reid just wanted to contact an old friend.

He punched in the number for her personal cell, and hoped that she hadn't changed it. He didn't expect the dial tone to signal Lila had picked up, or for her to recognize his number. "This is Spencer Reid right? You helped me figure out who my stalker was."

He tried not to focus on the fact she hadn't mention their kiss in the pool. "Uh, y-yeah it's me. I just thought I'd call and see how you were doing these days."

"Not to point out the obvious, but just about every part of my life is documented online for your viewing pleasure."

He laughed, "That's all surface. How are you truly doing?"

"Well after you guys came, the press wanted to know every little detail, which they could get by looking at the paper, but they wanted it from my perspective. It's fine though, totally gained a lot of attention from the media. And obviously my life's kind of scrambled, but I wouldn't have it any other way. So how about you? What's new in the profiling world?"

He coughed, "Well actually, I'm not at the BAU anymore. Or the FBI in general."

"Oh my God, what happened?" He heard the sound of coffee being poured and reminded himself that it was only half-past-eight in Los Angeles. 

"I flaked a bit on a case in Texas. Took it too personal and tried to reason with an angry teenager with a gun." 

"Is he...?"

"He's fine." 

Confusion seeped into her next words. "I don't understand, if no one was hurt in that encounter, why'd you get penalized for it?"

"Breaking regulations, and some uh- other things."

Lila must have realized the 'other things' were personal, because she maneuvered their conversation into a different direction. "It's great to hear from you Spencer, but was there any particular reason you're phoning me up out of blue?"

He told her about him possibly venturing into her career, and she was excited as she spoke. "That's amazing Spencer. Agents will totally love you, you're bone structure? Totally meant for this. And a scout had already spotted you eight years ago? Oh yeah, you're gonna be just fine."

"Yeah, I think it'll be good for me."

"I know a lot of agents in the area, I can give you their numbers. Maybe you could fly in, we'll take a couple shots to send in. Oh I- I mean if you're starting in L.A. Which I shouldn't assume, maybe you want to start in Virginia."

He attempted to ease her stress. "Lila, I'd be happy to catch a plane over there. It won't be for a month or so, my lease won't be up for a couple weeks. And I've gotta grab some money, but I think California would be good for me."

"Oh you're gonna love it Spencer. This is amazing, you won't regret a thing. I promise."

He thanked her for her help but once they hung up, he looked around the expense of his living room. "What did I just do?"

He would have appreciated an answer, because he sure didn't have one. He had talked to Ethan about taking risks, but _moving?_ What the hell did he _do?_

 _You'd be closer to your mom_ a part of him argued _and you could use a fresh start._ He considered it, those were good points, maybe he wasn't being irrational. _Are you dumb?_ the other part of him argued _where are we supposed to stay? What if none of the agencies like us?_

Shit. Those were good points as well.

 _Lila_ basically _offered_ side one defended.

 _We can't just depend on her hospitality forever_ side two refuted.

Reid had had just about enough of their bickering, and decided to lay down for a bit, trying to process his actions. 

Maybe Hotch was right when he'd said Reid had a reckless nature about him. 


	4. at a loss (to do something)

Reid woke up the next morning, not feeling any better. He still believed he had thrown any impulse control he had out the window, and he was beginning to reap the consequences. He began his usual morning activities, at a reasonable time, while he continued mentally kicking himself. _Why didn't I just settle for lecturing at a university? God, I'm so stupid_ he grimaced, pouring water into the reservoir in his coffee machine.

Obviously he needed a new profession, and he had a large expanse to choose from considering his multitude of degrees. But he'd figured he would pick something close to home, whether home meant Quantico, or near Bennington in Las Vegas. The world of Los Angeles was not for him, a city filled with young men and woman trying to obtain a small piece of fame for themselves. Most of the time, they would pour their heart and souls into the smallest projects, all hoping for a big break that would never come.

He didn't need or want that. He understood that determination and work ethic were large factors in gaining success, but he wasn't going to slave away for months on end, just to earn a few bucks from an amateur photographer. Of course there was Lila to remember. Lila who had seemed genuine in hoping to assist Reid in kick-starting his career. Lila who had connections, connections that made him wonder if he had a chance after all.

Reid made his way over to his couch, and he couldn't help but notice his living room had become the spot for him to resign the hours of his day to. He pulled his laptop from the small platform under his coffee table, and waited as it hissed to life. If he'd really lost his mind, was really considering moving across the country, he would at least look at what he was getting himself into. He logged in, and tried to decide where he should even start. _I totally fucked up didn't I?_ he internally groaned, staring blankly at his screen. 

He started with costs, although Lila had hinted Reid would be welcome at her place, he still wanted to consider his options. Apartments ranged from the low 2000s to the high fours, and Reid wasn't extensively picky about his living quarters, so there was an abundant amount of building to look at. He just wanted an affirmation that utilities would be included, the cleaners could nix a washer and dryer, and he preferred to hand wash dishes over allowing a machine to do it.

He looked at flights next, the cost to fly to California wasn't expensive, and he'd be a lot closer to his mother on the west coast. He idly wondered if Garcia might try and track him through his transportation records, but he waved it off, she wasn't going to hop on a plane just because she'd found where he lived. He looked at vehicles as well, because he figured his old station wagon deserved to retire. His dad had gotten it a couple years before he left, and it was making too many noises for him to keep it.

Reid wasn't strapped for cash, his job covered the necessities, while leaving a fair amount extra, and he'd racked up large sums of money at Vegas' local casinos while caring for his mother. A couple nights of poker would get him enough money to make the 2300 mile journey to Los Angeles, and enable him to settle comfortably. He'd have to ask Lila where her new home was, as she'd moved after being held at gunpoint two years ago. He closed his laptop and finished his coffee, then preceded to fetch himself another cup.

He sipped the warm drink, and wondered what he'd do with his day. He'd only been unemployed for a couple days, and was already itching to do something of importance. His books were lined along his bookshelves, his floors and furniture weren't messy, so that ruled out an impromptu deep-cleaning. He glanced around his kitchen and looked at his fridge, and figured cooking would be good. His schedule used to only give him the time to order something from one of the many takeout menus stacked in a drawer. 

He pulled out eggs, butter, milk, spinach, and tomatoes. Then wandered to his cabinets to get the bowls and utensils he'd need. It had been a while since he'd made an omelette, his mother used to make it every morning when she was in her more lucid states, and he'd come to miss it. He smiled as the eggs simmered on his stovetop, maybe he'd start taking advantage of this small break. Gideon had always gotten on him about taking a vacation, though Reid noticed the man seldom took one himself.

He flipped the egg into a crescent moon, and slid it onto a plate. Though no one believed him, Reid was a pretty good cook, but he still admitted it didn't taste as well as his mother's. He spent the rest of the morning flipping through books, before he settled down for another rest. He was sleeping a lot lately, but he figured it might do him so good. Surprisingly, the time for lunch had passed, and dinner was the appropriate option by the time he woke up.

He fixed himself a quick dish of teriyaki chicken and went back to his living room. Reid set himself an internal reminder to give his landlord his month notice and ask for his security deposit. He pulled out his laptop again, and flicked through his list of films. Garcia had insisted he tried to keep up the changing world, and apparently staying updated on the latest movies would help.

He ended up putting the device back in his bag, thinking of Garcia had brought up memories of his entire team, which unfortunately sent him down memory road. He missed them, despite only being with the BAU for five years, he considered them all as part of his family. Especially Gideon, before the man had taken off, he'd been the paternal figure he'd never had. When Gideon left, he found Hotch had taken on the role.

He sent his notice in the following days, and started the process of packing his things. He packed up his books first, simultaneously deciding which ones he could drop off at the local library. He'd have to hire someone to dismantle the shelves for him, and he ignored the voice in his head saying Morgan could do it. He didn't own too many personal items, his closet wasn't overpacked, and neither were his cupboards. 

Since he was traveling by air, he needed to get movers to drop his stuff off in Los Angeles. That would come with a hefty price, so he planned on venturing to the casinos. He'd narrowed down a couple of apartments he could move into within the following weeks, and after about half of his life was packed into the boxes, he decided to give Lila a call. He wanted to know if he should try and get an apartment near her, but it appeared she had her own opinion on where he'd be staying.

"Are you joking Spencer? Don't look at any apartments, you're staying with me. I've got two extra bedrooms that I never use, and there's plenty of room in my house for another person. Y'know, for a genius you're kind of dumb."

Funny, Ethan had said the same thing to him. He laughed, "I'm sorry. If I'm being honest, I haven't put money down for anything yet."

"Good. You just bring yourself, and anything from your home. And let me pay for the movers."

"Lila."

"Don't _Lila_ me. I'm making you come over here, at least let me help some way." She replied.

"It was more of a mutual decision. I don't want to be a burden, and we don't know for sure if this is even going to work out."

He heard an exasperated breath. "Spencer Reid, you are not a burden, in any way, shape, or form. This is absolutely going to work out, I've been doing this for years, trust me when I say you'll get bookings easily. If it'll make you feel better, we'll go out for dinner when you're settled in, and you can pay."

It did make him feel better. "Thank you for doing this Lila, really."

"Of course, now hurry up and get over here. It's kind of lonely."

He promised her he would, and resumed the packing process. He stumbled upon a small pile in a cabinet that he dedicated to memories from the FBI. Small trinkets Garcia gave him, the old tickets from his Redskins game with JJ, which had shown both of them that they were better off as friends. It worked out well, because she'd found the detective in New Orleans, even if she thought she was hiding their relationship well. He saw the whistle Morgan had slipped onto his desk when they returned from their LDSK case.

Maybe he'd miss them. Yes, he would miss them, terribly. They had been the closest thing he had to a family in years. His father had been distant even before he left, and his mom tried her best, but she wasn't fit to take care of a child. He could still phone them, though he didn't like to admit it, technology was a wonderful thing. Maybe they wouldn't want to speak to him, surely Hotch had found a replacement that was less annoying than him. An agent more competent in the field.

He cleared his head of any thoughts and scenarios. He was being overdramatic, of course Hotch would find a replacement. He had done it for Elle, and Strauss had recruited Rossi out of retirement. What happened in the FBI didn't concern him anymore. He was just a citizen now, his badge and gun were sitting on Aaron Hotchner's desk, probably collecting dust.

Finally, his belongings were stowed away, ready to begin the journey to California. Reid glanced around his mostly barren apartment, which was a mistake, because doubt began settling in again. _I'm doing this way too fast, did I even stop to think?_ he asked himself. But that was the problem right? He thought too much, and it didn't do him much good. But one of the few times he went headfirst into something, he'd gotten himself fired.

Lack of overthinking brought him to Jason Gideon's cabin. It was his worst idea yet, he didn't even know if the man still lived there. But he drove up there anyways, in his beat-up station wagon, creaking and spitting as it rolled up. He walked up to the door and knocked a few times. He briefly thought he could book it back to his car before anyone answered the door, because he didn't think he was ready.

He wouldn't get the chance, because the door opened. Standing there, was Jason Gideon, looking slightly confused as to why Reid was standing there. "Re- Spencer? Did something happen? Come in."

The other moved aside and gestured for Reid to follow him into his living room, they took seats opposite each other and there was a pause before Reid answered.

"I'm out of the FBI."

He saw the shock on Gideon's face, and waited for him to respond. "How the hell did that happen Spencer?"

So Reid told him what happened in Texas, and it was clear that Gideon believed Hotch was in the wrong. He got up and prepared tea for the two, and Reid stirred his cup while Gideon took a minute to process.

"I'm going to talk to Aaron."

Well. That wasn't what he expected. "No, it's fine really. I'm actually uh- I've got a friend in LA-"

"You're moving across the country? Why?"

"I thought I could try a different career, and she's a model, and she thinks I could do fairly well."

There was a knowing look in Gideon's eyes. "This 'model friend', her name wouldn't happen to be Lila Archer, would it?"

He nodded, and then realized how this must look. "She's not the sole reason. I'm doing this for me, I need a fresh start. I figured you would- you would understand."

"I do Spencer. It's just unlike you to make sudden decisions."

He laughed, Gideon was absolutely right, he wasn't thinking like he usually did. Maybe Lila was the reason why he was acting so irrationally, though he wasn't placing any real blame on her. Before he left, there was something he wanted to know, something he didn't get to ask before Gideon had left him his letter.

"Would it be alright if I reached out to you from time to time? I know there's no reception up here, but I could send letters, and I know you don't want to associate with the BAU anymore but-"

"Well it's a good thing you're not with the BAU anymore Spencer. I'd be happy to hear how things are going, perhaps how you and your 'model friend' are doing."

He smiled and bid the man goodbye. After a couple weeks, he finally felt ready to start this new chapter in his life. He would go to Los Angeles, move in with Lila, and make occasional trips to Las Vegas. Hell, maybe if this did work out, he'd introduce his mom to Lila. He had a good feeling she would like her.

He didn't anticipate Jason Gideon high-tailing it to the FBI office in Quantico, demanding to speak to one Aaron Hotchner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna guess prices for all the things reid looked at were different in '08, but oh well


	5. i haven't seen you in months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey:) sorry this is so late, school keeps you busy haha.

It had been a few weeks since Hotch introduced the team's newest member, and he sensed they were still angered over _needing_ a replacement in the first place. Hotch sat in his office sorting through some papers, they hadn't had a case in a couple days, so the team was analyzing a few cold cases. He was standing up from his seat to grab a cup of coffee when his door flung open, and he raised his head and did an internal double-take.

Jason Gideon was standing in front of him and he looked infuriated. Though, true to his nature, his next words were calm and collected. "Hotch, would you want to explain why my agent sought me out and informed me he had been fired?"

He didn't mention that neither Gideon nor Reid were apart of the bureau anymore, making the question inaccurate. Instead, he took a deep breath and returned the level tone. "I'm sure he's told you Jason."

"Why Hotch? He saved the kid's life didn't he? Is it because of me, you're pissed I left you to run the BAU by yourself?"

"It has nothing to do with you Jason, and I'm not alone, you remember SSA David Rossi don't you?"

Gideon shook his head in disbelief. "Of course I know Dave, I made this unit with him Hotch. We're veering off topic, why did you fire Spencer?"

"There were a few reasons that I'd wish to keep within my team Jason."

"You're really going to try and play that angle Hotch? Why did you do it?"

"I'm sorry Jason, but I can't disclose the information to a civilian."

He could tell he'd touched a nerve reminding the man of his status. "You've really changed Hotch. I'll leave, but you should know you're making a mistake. A large one."

"I have complete faith in my decisions Jason, and I'd like that you didn't question me about it."

Apparently Gideon still had something to say. "Hotch, Spencer's good at his job. Great at it. You can tell me I'm biased, or I'm treating him too much like a son. I don't give a shit, Reid doesn't deserve this, and maybe one day you'll realize that."

He didn't get the chance to reply before Gideon opened the door and turned out of the room. He followed him down the stairs, moving to the team who were pouring over some boxes. He half-expected Gideon to alert his presence, but the man strode right past them and into the elevator doors. Emily and Morgan glanced up at him, being the only ones at their desks as Charleston was grabbing coffee. He waited for one of the two to question him, because they still held a hostile attitude towards him.

It was Morgan who spoke up. "Alright, that guy disappeared from the face of the Earth months ago, what's he doing stomping around the office?"

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Reid... Reid told him about his termination. He wasn't too pleased, obviously."

"I can't blame him."

Hotch let the slight jab go unannounced, and was going to return to his office when JJ walked through with a file in hand. He grabbed Charleston's attention and gestured for him to meet at the round table. Strauss had asked for his assessment once they had returned from the South, and he admitted the doctor had met his expectations. He wasn't going to dwell on Charleston's brazen behavior, all fresh field agents held some chip on their shoulder.

JJ was already waiting for them with three teenagers photos placed on the screen. "Scott Lawrence, Jules Hart, and Zac Hutton all disappeared from Vernon, California. Vernon PD found Scott and Jules' mutilated bodies in the Los Angeles River." 

"Vernon's barely got 120 people in it, a close-knit town like that, you'd expect someone to see the suspect. We can't rely on background information too much, there'll be a lot of overlap with a small population, and this unsub doesn't have much of a preference. Where were they last seen?" Emily frowned, sifting through the papers. 

"Jules was outside a shopping centre, Scott was at a bank, and Zac Hutton was leaving a diner."

He looked up. "What was the cause of death JJ?"

"Asphyxiation, with signs of sexual assault on both bodies. The river wiped away any other evidence."

Charleston sipped his coffee and gave his own input. "Why did they wait so long to call us in? I mean, I've only worked a few cases, but I'd be calling federal agents after finding bodies floating in my water."

Rossi answered, "It's not uncommon for officers to have a bit of hubris, unfortunately, sometimes citizens pay for this flaw with their lives. If the unsub is following their timeline, we have two days to find the last victim."

Hotch moved from his seat, about to exit through the door. "Then we need to find him. Wheels up in thirty."

Half an hour later they were on the jet, after Hotch gave Garcia the order to sort through the victims backgrounds. Although Emily was correct about the unfortunate overlap, he wasn't going to let even the smallest pieces of evidence slip through his fingers. He waited while everyone skimmed over their folders for a few minutes, while staring at his own file, before he cleared his throat and addressed the team.

"Why these kids? Why did our unsub choose them as a targets?"

"Revenge? Perhaps they feel the victims have wronged them." Prentiss offered.

"That would make our unsub around their age, this person's gotta have some place to conceal them for two weeks, I don't see a teenager having access to a spot like that." Morgan pointed out.

JJ twirled a pen in her hand. "It could possibly be about the parents, the best way to hurt someone is to hurt someone they love."

"Why not go to the source?" Charleston asked.

"Why do that when you could lay emotional torture on the people you really want to go after? The parents could be the endgame."

As if on cue, Garcia appeared on the screen with a frown on her face. Hotch wasn't surprised when she announced there was a connection in almost every aspect of their victims lives. He let Morgan ask her to look at the parents history, search for any financial disputes, occupational layoffs, anything that may cause resentment between people. After she assured them she would return with their information, they continued looking at victimology. 

"No specific gender, they _are_ all Caucasian, faces don't appear to share any similarities." Rossi said.

"Wasn't there something Reid would do with facial structures? Something like looking at people and figuring out any similar angles and slopes." JJ inquired. 

Hotch ignored the brief glance she sent his way, and let Charleston answer her instead. "I don't see any resemblance between them, we'll have to look beyond the usual parameters."

He appreciated the newest agent not acknowledging the name their media liaison mentioned. Though he wouldn't be surprised if Charleston did recognize Reid's name, he wouldn't put it past Erin to mention the man Michael was replacing. Nevertheless, he had other things to focus on, and gave the others directions to where they would go.

"JJ, Morgan, I'll need you at the police station to talk to the families. Prentiss, Rossi, you'll go to the abduction sites. Charleston, you'll be with me at the river."

He silently noted the pleased look on the doctor's face. New recruits always felt the need to prove their worth to their team, so he let the man continue rattling off possible additives to their profile while they headed to the disposal sites. He found the sheriff there, watching officers comb through the water, affirming there wasn't another body. Upon noticing Hotch's presence, she turned around and extended her hand.

"I'm sure your expecting me back at the station, but I insisted on being here. Both victims were found half-way on the bank." She led them to a section of the river, "Three kids managed to go missing. Right underneath my nose."

"You're not to blame here sheriff."

"Yeah, whatever you say. When I get my hands on that sick son of a bit- Anyway, the third victim, Zac Hutton, parents are devastated. I had my men try and ask some questions, couldn't get a word in."

"Grief can be a terrible thing."

She didn't answer him, and focused her gaze on the riverbank. He noticed the relieved look on the sheriff's face when one of the men announced the river was clear, and Hotch followed her back to the ring of cars. Charleston lingered behind them, scribbling in a notepad. After parting with the sheriff, he clambered into his vehicle, and Charleston picked up where he left to share his thoughts on the case.

They walked into the precinct and headed towards the room an officer had directed them to. Morgan and JJ sat there, bouncing ideas off of each other, with JJ looking up to answer his unspoken question. 

"Scott Lawrence and Zac Hutton's parents admitted to a few work disputes, though they were from years ago at buildings on opposite ends of the town. Jules Hart's mother remembered some brushes in high school, I sent a list of names to Garcia to run checks."

"Alright. How's the geographical profile going?"

Morgan spun in his chair to face the map on the wall. "We've got it narrowed down to this cluster of houses, it's better than usual, but it still won't do us much good unless you want to start banging on doors."

He nodded and let JJ fill him in on the possible leads they had come up with. Charleston stood near the map, though he couldn't tell if he was trying to eliminate houses, or scrutinize the work on it. He did break his gaze to listen to JJ, offering a few notes himself. Twenty minutes passed before Rossi and Prentiss walked in, with the former giving him the information. 

"Nobody saw the unsub, but a few people remembered seeing a red Chevrolet in the bank and restaurant's parking lots."

He gave Garcia a call, asking her to search for anyone that fit their description and had a red Chevrolet registered to their name. In return, she promised details on the names from her list, and a collection of hot-wheeled possible murderers. They continued trying to create a working profile, and waited for Garcia to ring them. Hotch delved into the file, attempting to find anything he could've missed.

The phone finally sounded, and Emily answered. "You're on speaker Garcia."

"Alright, I've got a minor count of domestic violence against Arnold Haggins, coworker of Mr. Lawrence. A report says Sabel Green got into a bar fight two years ago, looks like he spent about a week at the Hutton's workplace, he spent a night in jail for his fight and moved to a different job in a different part of town. But the rain sours your parade because neither of these guys owns the vehicle you're looking for."

"Anything that could be a trigger within the last year?"

"Right, an alumni from Mrs. Hart's old high school, Clark Kenton, recently lost his promotion to uh- oh no. He lost the promotion to Sandra."

Charleston shook his head. "Why didn't she tell us that when we questioned her? It would've saved valuable time."

He couldn't find himself disagreeing with the inquest. "That might explain Jules, what about the others, did Kenton have any disputes with the other families?"

"No, sorry, I looked everywhere, I don't think Clark has even interacted with the other parents. At least intentionally, which is strange when the city is barely five square miles. I've got a search active, running through dealership records in and around Vernon. I'll see if I can expunge any dirt on your other parents. Ta and ta."

Though he despised it considering their time constraint, Hotch told them to head to the hotel and meet back at seven. There wasn't much they could do, especially without a few viable suspects. He hoped to try and find a new crack in the case, but settled onto the comforter when he came up empty. He focused on his breathing, but was disrupted by hushed whispers. They usually slept alone unless circumstances appeared, but the voices told him Emily had crept into JJ's room.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" 

"I'm fine."

"JJ, I read and interpret body language for a job. You're not fine."

"Is anyone? I mean, he's my best friend Emily. And we both know Morgan isn't taking this well."

He doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but as low as they may be talking, he had a fine-tuned sense of hearing. Emily spoke again, a bit of mirth in her words, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "Oh yeah, I thought he was going to hit something or...someone."

"I just don't understand why Hotch did this, it was one mistake. Reid's done a lot for this team, it could've been overlooked," JJ scoffed, "Hell, this is affecting people who aren't even on the team. I didn't think Gideon would come to the office. What's next, Elle'll show up after disappearing for a year?"

"Elle?"

"Oh right you didn't- you didn't meet Elle, you should've. When Elle left, it was a bust, Garcia doesn't go in the field, and LEOs can be real assholes because they don't think I'm as capable as the guys. Elle wouldn't stand for it, she'd make sure every guy know she could beat their ass if she wanted."

"She sounds great, why did she leave?"

"We had a serial rapist in Ohio, Dayton Lee, Elle was supposed to be the target to lure him out and form some evidence on him. She backed out, we couldn't convict him of anything, and the next morning he was found dead with a gunshot wound to the stomach. We couldn't prove it, but Elle turned in her credentials a week later."

"That would be a reason to leave."

"Yeah. I know what she did was wrong, but I miss her, I really do. And you two would've really hit it off."

He heard a laugh. "Well, Elle seems like a real badass, now I do wish I'd met her."

"Well if she finds out what happened, you might just see her storming through the bullpen."

He focused on his train of thought, trying to block out the rest of the conversation. _Would_ Elle return to the FBI? She wasn't as close to Reid as Gideon, but it wouldn't be too far out of left-field for someone to tell her. JJ herself had just mentioned how tight-knit hat friendship was, but her wording hinted that the brunette hadn't been informed yet. He let himself drift off to sleep, he had better things to stress about than a workplace dilemma. 

His real concern was Zac Hutton, if they were right, they had to find the kid tomorrow. He didn't want to face another devastated family, but they hadn't even formed a preliminary profile. Hopefully, Garcia would find someone on her log, henceforth helping finalize their analysis. He walked into the small room at the precinct where Prentiss and Morgan were refining the profile. The phone rang and Rossi, who was looking at their files on the parents, answered.

"What have you got Garcia?"

"I gathered a list of anyone who purchased a flaming red Chevrolet, and cross-referenced that with schools, workplaces, apartments, anything in connection to the families. Y'know this rarely happens, so consider us lucky. We've got a match on one Don Mason."

"What do you have on him?"

"Well it looks like Don was a pretty happy kid. Mom and dad both had stable jobs, he had good grades, played varsity soccer. Went to a Division two college for the sport with Jules' dad, and works at the same bank as the Lawrence's. And... he joined the same church as the Huttons about a year ago."

He heard the other four members silently debate whether they had sufficient evidence to bring him in, but as unit chief, he had to make the decision. "Send us his address Garcia."

"Already done sir."

Half an hour later, Mason was in the station's interrogation room, his wife being unsuccessfully consoled by JJ. Hotch sat a cross from him, and watched the teller drain the last bits of coffee they had offered him. When he felt a pair of eyes on him, he pulled out photos the officers had taken when they found the first two teenagers. He subtly noted that Mason showed discomfort, but not excessively enough to look fake.

"Did you know who these kids were?"

The man huffed. "Tell you the truth agent, I didn't even know they were kids."

He pulled out their school pictures, setting each one next to their evidence. Don scanned over them and folded his hands together, looking more shaken.

"Of course I know them. He's a bit older than the photo Laura showed me- that's Scott, her oldest. I don't recognize her face, but Hart blasted news of a kid all over town. And that's uh- Zayn? Zac? I've only seen him a few times at service, and I took some time off-"

Hotch interrupts him immediately. "Time off?"

"My wife and I, we've been saving up money and vacation days to fly to Tahiti. It's a beautiful island by the way."

He gave a small nod, he'd never been near the French Polynesia but he had seen a few photos. "When did you leave for this trip?"

"July... 12th? Came back after a little over a week."

He did the math, if Mason was telling the truth, he wasn't even in the country when the second victim went missing. He left the room, headed for the phone to ask Garcia to clear his alibi. He should've checked before he hauled the guy to the station, and it just showed how frustrated this case was making him. He walked back into the room and stood behind the empty chair across from the banker.

"Your alibi's been checked, you're free to leave. I apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused."

Thankfully, Don didn't take it too personally, and left the station with his wife. But Hotch still had a suspect on the loose and a kid with a couple hours left to live. He headed back to the whiteboard they had set up, looking at any possible angles they could've missed. What he didn't expect, was the front doors to swing open, with someone who looked a lot like Zachary Hutton running through.

The boy ran to the nearest officer, and grasped their arm. With a raspy voice, possibly from shouting, he breathed. "You need to help me."

Hotch walked over to him, seeing the sheriff do the same action out of the corner of his eye. He let her try to soothe the boy, signaling one of her officers to call his parents. Once she backed away from him, Hotch moved in. 

"Zac? My name's agent Hotchner, I'm with the FBI. Would you be able to identify the person did this to you?"

Zac sniffled and nodded. He motioned for Prentiss, who had silently watched the exchange, to guide him to a seat. As much as he wanted to finally locate their culprit, he had to make their victim feel as comfortable as he could. So he allowed Prentiss to sit with him for a few minutes. He might've sent Reid in there, had he been with them. Despite what the young genius thought, most victims felt comforted by his non-threatening presence.

He saw Prentiss leave, with her mouthing she was getting him water, and took it as his cue to enter. Zac Hutton was fiddling with a small hole in his torn clothing, and there was small bits of dirt on his hands and face. Before he could get a word out, the teen looked up, waterlines filling with tears.

"His name's Sam Henderson. He's my science teacher."

Well. That was something he wasn't expecting. Nevertheless he asked Zac to try and remember where Henderson had taken him. Prentiss returned with the water, and the gave him some time to rest before they asked if he'd do a cognitive interview. He exited the room, knowing that he wouldn't be the best interviewer. Outside, standing near the front desk, was Zac's parents.

He attempted to answer their questions, and glanced back to find JJ, though she was already there. Hotch tried to focus his thoughts, there was too many events occurring at the same time, and his head wasn't clear. He called Garcia, asking her to search the background of an ex-alumni at the high school. 

Prentiss returned, and gave the results. "He was blindfolded, so he couldn't tell us much. No signs of bruises or abrasions that would usually indicate a blitz attack. Thinner than his picture, and he slipped out the back door, didn't even think of removing the cloth until he was in the open."

"How's a kid going to trust his teacher so much, he'll let him blindfold him?" Charleston asked. 

It was a rhetorical question, so Emily finished explaining the rest of the boys experience. Once Garcia called back and gave them a man that almost fit their profile to a tee. They used the noises Zac described to find a secluded area just a few miles from Henderson's home. Hotch divided the team, taking Morgan and Rossi to the shed. Upon arrival, they found Sam Henderson, legs folded on a chair.

It was simple to get him to confess, and they had substantial evidence in the house and shed to place an arrest. He went to high school with all six parents, but the part of the profile that didn't fit was they didn't know him. They knew him as a teacher, not an old classmate. He told them jealousy got the best of him, they were levels above him on the social ladder, and it bothered him. So he took something that would garner their attention. 

Further research from Garcia showed Henderson had joined the school staff over two months ago, and the teacher explained he was angry when none of the children had heard of him from their parents. It was a sick and twisted way to express bitterness, so he was glad to land back in Virginia the next morning. He told the others to enjoy their weekends, and walked up to his office. When all was said and done, he drove home, kicked off his shoes, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its overusing multiple words for me


End file.
